


Brig Time

by Thatoneguyyoudidntknowfromtumblr



Category: Transformers Generation One
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-07 10:09:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4259397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thatoneguyyoudidntknowfromtumblr/pseuds/Thatoneguyyoudidntknowfromtumblr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jazz always has a reason for everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brig Time

Freezing, Jazz fished up an appropriate song in his mind to suit his current mood-- and help him calm down-- before turning to face Optimus.

"Ya?" He asked, keeping his posture relaxed, shoulders down, doors held carelessly any which way down his back as if he hadn't a care in the world. Of course, he did, but it was one of his jobs to make sure no one-- even Optimus Prime-- knew what he did or didn't care about.

The exact same time that the Leader of the Autobots began to talk, _Centerfold_ began blasting over Jazz's internal iPod of a brain, following what he had been playing before, _For What It's Worth_. He hastily turned it down, but he was paying more attention to the music than the reprimand the large mech standing before him was reluctantly dishing out. Important words, like _brig time_ and _it doesn't matter if you are an officer_ filtered through and Jazz dropped his head, giving a respectful nod.

"Now, Jazz," Optimus said insistently, causing Jazz to give a sheepish grin.

"Dismissed, then?" He asked, aware that there were other Autobots in the hallway, watching. The others were always watching, he knew. His every waking moment he was under scrutiny, worse than Mirage or Red Alert ever were.

"Dismissed," Prime agreed with a sigh. "Don't let it happen again."

Jazz saluted and spun on a heel, reviewing the conversation as he walked. He'd agreed in all the right places, as always, made the token protest and was now on his way to a week in the brig. A welcome week, in his opinion, as Optimus well knew; the black and white could use the time to catch up on his reports...and get some much-needed recharge. He looked over his shoulder and grinned; Blaster, of course, was coming out of the Lounge.

"Where're you headed?" Blaster asked.

"Jail," Jazz cheerfully replied. "Did the crime, gotta do the time. Go put a show on in the Lounge," he advised. "Downright frumpy in here."

Blaster chuckled and gave a salute, which Jazz waved away. "Yessir, Maestro."

"Don't sir me, kiddo," Jazz replied, shaking his head with a laugh as he continued on his way. "Hey there, Red," he greeted, waving to the security officer as he passed his desk. "Prime's slotted me for a week. I'll be in my usual office." Red sputtered and stood quickly enough to knock his chair over. Jazz shot over and caught it before it hit the ground, setting it upright in a smooth twist of his wrist. "Careful there, mech."

"You shouldn't treat this so casually!" Red Alert insisted, frowning as he sat again, looking through the pads on his desk for the transmission he had received just a few moments before from Prime. "Brig time is a serious punishment! Honestly, you're here so often--"

"I'm here 'cause I do things that require punishment," Jazz replied evenly, schooling his expression into one of appropriate seriousness.

"And yet you do them repeatedly--"

"Red," Jazz said, placing his hands on the desk to look the mech evenly in the optic, "I know full well what the punishment for my actions could be. I take a calculated risk when doing them and make an educated choice. Sometimes you gotta do things that land you takin' your due punishment."

"But you don't seem to care!" Red protested, optics earnest.

"I care," Jazz replied, tone level. "When I'm down here, I can't be doin' my job. I gotta close down my network an' lose valuable time an' info. But you know as well as I do that if I kicked up a fuss I'd be settin' a bad example."

"You already are!" Red exclaimed, voice full of frustrated exasperation. "You're an _officer_!"

"An officer who gets brig time like everyone else," Jazz said patiently. "I'm the mech's officer, Red. I'm the one they come to, remember? I'm the one they trust to be able to get things done-- beyond Prowl, beyond Ironhide, Ratchet or yourself. I take my punishments like everyone else because then they know that I've been there. I'm not higher--"

"But you're supposed to be! You're an officer, Jazz!"

Jazz paused for the briefest moments before changing tactics. "Red, if you had a concern about another mech, who would you go to?"

"Well, I," Red stammered, "ah, well, either Ironhide or yourself."

"And if it was about 'Hide or one of the other officers?" Jazz asked. "Or Prime? Or the twins?"

"...you."

"Why?"

Red fell silent, obviously thinking hard. Jazz hid his tolerant smile with expert practice, keeping his expression a special mix of expectant and patient that he seemed to reserve particularly for the security officer. "Because...I...know that you will listen," Red said slowly. "I know that you will take me seriously...because...you have _been_ there."

"Exactly," Jazz said, nodding and straitening. "I'll be in the cell if you wanna talk later on."


End file.
